The Choice
by Venus Smurf
Summary: Minako chose not to be reborn as a senshi. What will happen to her now that she’s alone and human? MinaMal. Complete.


A.N.:  Well, this one's a little darker than my typical fic, but I couldn't seem to help myself when I was writing it.  Tell me what you think anyway, okay?  I could always use a little feedback.  

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Summary:  Minako chose not to be reborn as a senshi.  What will happen to her now that she's alone and human?  Angsty until very end, but still Malachite/Mina…

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"The Choice"

She'd been given a choice, that first time.  She'd never wanted the choice, had never wanted the guilt or regret that would come with whatever it was she chose.  She'd never wanted it, but she'd been grateful for it, all the same.  She may not have wanted the choice, but that was the first time she'd ever been able to decide her own fate, the first time she'd ever been able to choose the direction in which her life would go. Whether or not she came to regret her decision, her destiny had no longer in the hands of another, and in the beginning she'd been glad for this.  

She wondered, sometimes, what would have happened to her if she'd never been given this control over her own fate, wondered what kind of person she would have become if she'd never had to choose one or the other.  Would she have been happier, never having this choice before her?  She might have, she thought, because then she wouldn't have to live always questioning her decision, always doubting the life she now led.  She _would_ have been happier, because she would never have felt as though she was shirking her duty, would never have come to regret the choice she'd inevitably made.  

She supposed that she shouldn't complain.  She'd been born for one purpose only, created with one goal in mind, and she shouldn't wallow in self-pity simply because she'd ended up fulfilling that purpose and that goal before she'd been ready.  She'd been given life only for the sake of others, and she shouldn't regret what had happened, especially since there _hadn't _been a choice, then.  Something inside had demanded that she risk herself so strangers could live, and she'd never been strong enough to fight the compulsions that came with being what she was.  

And so she'd died, had walked knowingly into a trap she never could have avoided and never could have survived.  She'd given her life for some great cause that she'd always thought she'd understood, for some wonderful and noble purpose that, in the end, was as meaningless as the life she'd lost so quickly, so painfully.  She'd realized, in that final moment, that she'd never really understood at all, and she started wondering, then, if there'd actually been any use in her life.  How could her existence have had meaning, if she had died so easily?  Should she regret losing a life that had never really been hers anyway?

Then the choice had come, had changed everything, had forced her to start thinking about who she might have been if she'd been like everyone else, what she might have wanted if her entire purpose hadn't been so wrapped up in duty and in the protection of others.  She hadn't been able to escape the implications of the choice, and she'd finally been forced to see herself as a person, not as a soldier or a leader or even as a senshi.  She'd been forced to look inside herself, and she'd realized that the person she'd been was not a person at all.  She saw that she'd been nothing more than a machine, a killing tool.  She'd been only a weapon, before the choice.

She hadn't wanted to be a weapon anymore, hadn't wanted to be something other than human, and she'd believed what they'd told her, at first.  She'd had little reason to doubt the promises made to her, and she'd been too tempted by the possibility of freedom to question the truth of this offer.  They'd told her she could live free, could have her mind wiped clean to leave room for the person she'd never allowed herself to be.  She could, they'd said with compassion in their eyes, finally have what had been taken from her before she'd even been born.

She'd made her choice still believing in their words, made the decision she'd thought would be best for her own heart and her own sanity.  She'd always prided herself on her instincts, but they'd failed her, this time, and she hadn't seen what was coming, hadn't realized that her decision would be wrong for everyone.  She hadn't realized that, by accepting this gift, she was also denying everything that she was, was destroying any possibility of a happier life.  She'd been lying to herself in thinking she could live without that other part of her, and she'd quickly come to realize that she hadn't left that old life behind at all.  True, she had finally been able to stop fighting, to stop sacrificing herself to what she had been born to do, but she was just as miserable as she had been then, if not more so.  She was just as unhappy, just as unfulfilled.  What had she to live for, after all?  They'd told her to forget, but she hadn't been able to, and she hadn't lost the memory of what she had been as they'd promised she would.  She hadn't changed _who _she was, but now she had nothing left to fight for, nothing left to live for.  They'd taken _what she was, but they hadn't taken enough.  _

Then again, would the alternative have really been any better?  She'd have kept fighting, have kept losing a little more of her soul with every day, every year, every century that passed.  She could have been reborn exactly as she had been before, accept once again the fight she had never started and wished she did not truly care about.  She could repeat everything that had already happened, could keep dying for people she had never and could never know.  She could have, but she'd chosen not to embrace what could only have been a living death, not to accept a misery she had never been without.  She'd never hesitated to accept her duty before now, but she simply hadn't been able to take any more.  She didn't like feeling as though she was turning her back on everything she'd valued until now, on everything she'd fought to preserve, but she hadn't had anything left to give, and she'd thought her only choice had been to walk away.  

She was a senshi, and senshi simply didn't give up and turn from their duties, didn't walk away from those she was supposed to protect.  She was a senshi, but she'd given up anyway.  She told herself that she wasn't, of course, told herself that she'd done enough for others and deserved this chance to rest, but even then that something inside her had recognized her own weakness, had recognized the lie.  That part had fought her, had fought what she was trying to do, but even that other in herself had known how _tired _she was_.  She was tired of this fight, tired of losing.  She was tired of never being allowed to be like everyone else.  She was tired of searching for a self she'd never even known she did not already have._

There was no going back from this choice, not once she'd made it.  She'd been reborn, as promised, free of the memories that would have haunted her in that other life.  She was free of the knowledge of her purpose, free of the agony that came with being what she was.  For a little while, at least, she'd been free, and everything was as she'd expected.  Then the dreams had started, and that other part of herself had resurfaced within her.  She'd started remembering her other life, started remembering her duties, and that other within her would no longer give her any rest from the guilt of the choice she'd made.

She hadn't been very old when the memories had begun to plague her, hadn't been more than ten or eleven.  She'd never really been like other children, but even she had been too young to accept what her mind was telling her, and she'd reacted badly.  Was it any wonder, then, that her own family and friends had thought she'd gone crazy?  Was it any surprise that they'd locked her away in this place that could not heal her?  She might have done the same, had she been in their position.  Even she, in those first years, had wondered if her mind truly was unbalanced, and she'd been defenseless against their convictions.  She'd almost believed their accusations, at first.  She'd almost bought into their theories, into their assumptions.  She'd almost come to doubt her own sanity, but that something inside would not allow her to question herself.  She'd found the proof of her sanity within her own soul, within the knowledge one her age should never have possessed.  She'd found the truth in memories she should not have had, and she'd used that truth to keep from losing the sanity they already believed she'd lost.

She sighed.  Even before she'd remembered, she'd always known that she wasn't like everyone else.  She'd always felt as though there was something different in her, something alive and demanding, something that would never let her live peacefully.  She'd always known, and she'd always hidden whatever this difference was.  She'd realized, even when a child, that she had to hide that part of herself because if she didn't she would lose something she could not function without.  Only when the dreams had become too intense for her did she run to her parents, but they hadn't been any more able to cope with this than she.  She'd frightened them, terrified them with her knowledge and the skills she suddenly discovered she had.  She'd made them uneasy, and they hadn't been able to support their unchildlike child as she rediscovered the destiny she'd lost once already.  They hadn't been able to help her, to make these dreams stop, and they'd chosen, instead, to lock her away where they need not deal with the uneasiness she instilled in them.  They could not afford to believe in what she now knew she was, because belief in Mina's past would only change their own worlds, and they weren't ready to let go of what they thought they were.

She'd stopped trying to convince them once they'd locked her away in this nightmarish place.  She'd stopped trying to tell them that she wasn't insane, that there could be no cure for what was wrong with her.  She _couldn't tell them, because they weren't ready to accept what she had been, what she had once been able to do.  They might have loved her once, but they were also happier thinking her dreams had been nothing more than dreams, that the skills she'd demonstrated before she'd been carted away had been nothing more than flukes.  They hadn't wanted to face the truth, because they'd known the truth would change them nearly as much as it had changed her.  _

She wanted them to be happy, even if she didn't really think of them as her family, and so she lied, told them that the dreams were slowing, stopping.  She told them whatever they wanted to hear, and eventually they left her alone and forgot her just as she'd wanted.  She didn't mind.  They meant nothing to that older part of herself, and she didn't care that eventually they began finding too many excuses not to come and see her.  As far as she was concerned, nothing in world outside this place affected her, and she couldn't have cared less about a family she'd never wanted and should never have had.

She didn't need anyone else, but she was still lonely.  She'd gotten used to having _them around, to being surrounded by those like her, by those who fought for the same cause and possessed the same skills.  Maybe they hadn't understood her, but they had understood what she was, and that had made all the difference.  That understanding, small as it was, was all that had made her life bearable, and she missed it more than she would ever admit.  Of course, the fact that she was missing them didn't mean that she had to be happy when they finally came to see her.  She'd been there for almost thirteen years before they appeared, and by then she'd come to accept that she would never leave this place, would never regain what she'd given up.  She'd come to accept that she'd lost everything, to accept the prison this life had become, and she hadn't welcomed the emotions their arrival instilled in her._

She'd been sitting in her small room when they came to her, staring blankly at a bare wall as she so often did.  She could feel their surprise when they entered and saw what she had become, when they saw the lifeless eyes and pale, wearied face.  They had not expected her to be like this, and she thought she'd shocked them a little.  She wasn't sorry for this, though she also wasn't glad.  She'd stopped being angry a long time ago, and she was no longer capable of bitterness.  Their reactions meant nothing to her.

They stepped up to her, and she felt a slender, strong hand gripping her shoulder.  She sighed, biting her lip but not turning to look at her visitors.  "I made the wrong choice," she murmured, not bothering to ask them why they'd come after all this time, not wanting to know what would happen to her soul once they left.  "I should have gone with them, should have continued fighting."  She shook her golden head.  "I was afraid," she confessed, "and I was tired, but I should not have walked away."  

She turned then, moving her slender body around in her chair until she could face them.  They were exactly as they had been, tall and beautiful, strong and unyielding...alive even though she had watched at least one of them die.  The expressions on their faces were almost more than she could bear, and she closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to see the pity in their gazes.  "It's too late now," she whispered suddenly, fiercely.  "I've made my choice, and we all know I can't take it back."  She shook her head rather violently, and she did not bother to push back the limp blonde hair that fell into her eyes.  "Just go away," she commanded, feeling an almost foreign anger flare within her.  "I can't face you now.  I can't face the guilt.  If I ever meant anything to either of you, you'll leave me alone to find what little peace I can."

Their eyes were shuttered, pity clear in their gazes.  The smaller of the two women shook her own head, not even attempting to hide her sorrow.  "Is that what you really want, Minako?" she asked softly, sadly.  "Do you want us to leave you like this?  We only wanted to help you, to make you happy, if we could.  Do you really want us to go?"

She'd gone too far.  The wan girl's eyes snapped open at that, and she scowled up at them with more angry life in her face than she'd shown in all the time since she'd come here.  "Yes," she hissed.  "Unless you've come to give back what I've lost, Selenity, I can't handle this right now.  You're a part of that other world, and I want nothing more to do with either of you.  I made my choice, even if I've come to regret it, and you're only making this harder for me.  Just _leave_."

Both women sighed, nodded.  They knew, as well as she, that she was trapped in this life, that nothing could give back the existence she'd willingly sacrificed.  They'd already interfered enough, and there was nothing more they could do for this girl who had once been one of their own.  "We're sorry, Minako," the pale, gem-eyed woman murmured.  "We wish we could take you from this, wish we could make you forget, but there's only one thing more we can do for you."

Mina's eyes were hard, all trace of emotion now buried beneath the sharpness the betrayals of this life had instilled in her.  "And what would that be?" she demanded, not truly caring what these others had to say.  "I don't blame you for being unable to make me forget as you'd promised, especially since I was the one who brought the memories back even after you'd tried to erase them.  I don't blame you for stranding me here, not when the decision was mine, but what more can you do to me?  Haven't I been punished enough?"

The taller of the two women shook her dark head.  "This was never supposed to be a punishment, Minako," she said, berry-red eyes terribly sad.  "We were trying to give you freedom, and besides, what we have to offer you was your doing, not ours.  You're the one who brought him here."

Mina turned to stare at them, and the harshness of her eyes was not quite able to cover the question in her cerulean gaze.  "What are you talking about?" she demanded none too gently, a terrible suspicion dawning in her gaze as her swift mind found the only meaning their words could possibly have.  "_Who_ did I bring here?"

The pale, blonde woman before her smiled sadly.  "He came with you," she said, knowing the white-faced girl did not truly need an answer.  "He's a part of you, but we gave him a different choice, and he still might have walked away with the others."  Her smile faded a little.  "He chose _you_," she said.  "He chose to follow you, to give up everything he might have had just to be with you.  You're tied to one another, even if you no longer want this to be so.  He might not remember you or know that he loves you, but you're still not alone anymore."

Their words seemed to echo through her, and her body started shaking as it had not even when she'd first been locked into this room so many years ago.  She stared up at them, not really seeing anything at all as her memories started tearing away what little had remained of her soul, but it didn't matter because they were already gone, having disappeared back into a world that no longer existed.  She was so caught up in her pain that did not even sense them go.  She had not felt this much emotion since the day she'd died, and this was almost too much for her twice-born mind to handle.  Surely, she thought, panicked, Selenity hadn't been talking about _him?  By all that is holy, she thought, please __let it not be him…_

The door opened then, startling her from her shock, and she had the answer she both had and hadn't wanted.  A man in one of the asylum's white uniforms stepped through, confirming her greatest fears and her greatest hopes.  She stared at him as he entered, face paling even more as her blue eyes raked almost defensively over his body.  He was as beautiful as she'd remembered, his presence just as overwhelming as ever.  His hair was shorter, of course, cut to fit this world's idea of fashion, but his body was just as muscled, just as broad-shouldered and attractive.  He stared at her through a pair emotionless silver eyes set in a tanned face, and she thought she saw a brief flash of recognition in his gaze.   

Her eyes widened, her face becoming even whiter as that flash instantly disappeared and a professional mask of detachment drifted back over his features.  "Malachite," she whispered so quietly he could not hear, the word more a prayer than a greeting.  She stared up at the handsome man before her and, for the first time since she'd come here, she smiled.  

She was not alone.

A.N.:  So, what do you think…do I continue (and find some way to give this a happy ending), or do I leave this as a one-shot?  It's up to you.  


End file.
